


adventures of cat dad geralt

by hauntedstarcollection



Category: Wiedźmin | The Witcher (Video Game), Wiedźmin | The Witcher - All Media Types
Genre: Canon-Typical Violence, Post-Blood and Wine (The Witcher 3 DLC), Reluctant Cat Dad Geralt
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-06-01
Updated: 2020-05-31
Packaged: 2021-03-02 19:28:53
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 2,295
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24482059
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/hauntedstarcollection/pseuds/hauntedstarcollection
Summary: some ficlets i wrote because i was sad that the cats in the games hiss at geralt.
Comments: 10
Kudos: 41





	1. Chapter 1

geralt was exhausted, to put it mildly. his latest contract to take care of a “monster” problem had turned out to be a camp full of defected nilfgaard fighters who had been nearing the border of toussaint. the thought of the remnants of the war spilling into the duchy made geralt uneasy, but the arrowhead in his shoulder was more concerning to him at this point. once he’d been paid, he had insisted on heading straight home, to corvo bianco. it was early enough in the evening that a few of the vineyard’s workers had met him near roach’s stable, ready to take care of her and get her settled in for the night.

“thanks,” geralt mumbled, handing off her reigns with a small wince. the mare nudged his uninjured shoulder with her nose, and geralt patted her neck. “yeah, roach, i know.”

managing to shrug off the offered help, geralt walked back up to the house, already starting to take off his armor as he walked. he would need to get it repaired, but in the morning. geralt stopped as he neared the front door, an unfamiliar noise bringing him up short. worn out as he was, it wasn’t in geralt’s nature to ignore unusual sounds so near his home. following the quiet, almost imperceptible, whine, geralt bent to look in the bushes to the side of the house. 

“what the fuck?” geralt spoke to himself, finding himself staring at a solid white kitten. the kitten looked up at the witcher, and its eyes seemed to express the same sentiment that geralt had just stated. “where’s your mother?” geralt asked before he could stop himself. the blood loss was making him talk to animals now, he thought.

the kitten, seemingly unaware that it was supposed to be afraid, let out a much louder cry. geralt stepped back in surprise, and the ridiculousness of that action struck him. a witcher was afraid of a kitten. 

“you’re supposed to be afraid. didn’t your mother teach you that cats hate witchers before she ran off?” geralt sighed, pulling off one of his gloves and holding his bare hand out to the kitten. it merely mewed again, staring up at him with eyes that matched his own. geralt sighed deeply, closing his eyes for a moment and resigning himself. “fine. come on.”

reaching into the bushes further, geralt delicately scooped the kitten up. it didn’t fight, and all but went limp when geralt held it against his chest. geralt stopped for a few moments, looking down at the weird little beast, before sighing again.

“fine,” he said again, rounding the house and heading to the door again. the kitten was quiet now, seemingly content to be held by the witcher. “what the hell am i supposed to do with you?” geralt looked down at the kitten, as if expecting an answer. once again, his only response was a prolonged stare.

once inside, geralt went to his bedroom immediately. looking from his bed to the kitten, he squinted for a moment before making a decision. only for tonight, he thought to himself, placing the kitten on the pillow beside the one he usually used. the kitten settled down right away, curling up and tucking its little tail around itself. as much as geralt wanted to join the kitten, he still had an arrowhead in his shoulder, and he was still bleeding.

grunting, geralt kicked off his boots and began to remove the rest of his armor. his swords went to the weapons rack to be cared for in the morning, and piece by piece, his armor went to the rack nearest his bed. once he was in his underclothes, geralt started prodding at the wood sticking out of his shoulder. he’d broken off the rest of the arrow during combat, not wanting it to get in the way. scrunching his nose, geralt picked up a knife and sat in front of his mirror, getting to work.

twenty minutes and a fair bit of blood later, geralt slumped back in his chair. the tip of the arrow was gone, and his mutations would prevent any kind of infection from setting it. geralt wrapped a bandage around his shoulder in the interest of sparing his sheets of any bloodstains more than anything else. he was nearly asleep sitting up when a tiny “prrbt” sound came from his bed.

“what?” geralt huffed, looking back at his bed to see the kitten had moved, taking over the pillow geralt generally used. “bastard cat,” he grumbled, but with no real venom behind it.

heaving himself up from his chair, geralt pulled the covers back from his bed and crawled under them. he curled up on his side, facing the door and the kitten, and closed his eyes. he had barely taken another breath before he heard movement, and geralt peeled one eye open. the kitten had abandoned the pillow and was now approaching geralt. the witcher held his breath, freezing up as the small animal approached him. to geralt’s shock and amusement, the kitten curled right up against his chest, promptly putting its head down and dozing back off.

“guess you’re staying for a while,” geralt whispered, closing his eyes. he drifted off just as the kitten began to purr.


	2. Chapter 2

“what the fuck is that?” lambert scrunched his nose as he followed geralt into the house, eyeing the small ball of white hair in the corner. “are you keeping your hair now?”

geralt sighed, rubbing his forehead and dropping into one of the chairs surrounding the table in the front room. “lambert, you act like you’ve never seen a cat in your life.”

said cat stood up at the moment geralt spoke, stretching and letting out a pleased trill. she bounced over to geralt, wrapping herself around his ankles a few times and staring at lambert. the other witcher took a half step back, reaching for the small silver blade he kept at his waist.

“that is not a cat, geralt. you’ve gone senile. cats hate witchers! that’s a fucked up doppler, is what that is,” lambert squinted at the little animal, who let out a little mew and jumped into geralt’s lap. geralt pet her gently with one finger as the kitten curled up on his thigh, purring at the attention.

“it’s a fucking cat, lambert. she’s been sleeping in my bed for a few months. if she’s a doppler, she’s a mutated and incredibly patient one,” geralt gestured to the chair across from his own. “sit down. you were going to tell me about that chort.”

still eyeing the cat warily, lambert sat across from geralt. he set his knife on the table, making geralt snort a laugh.

“lambert, if you stab my cat, i will skin you alive,” he threatened. lambert was taken aback by the seriousness in geralt’s tone.

“wow, old man. ciri grew up and you needed a new kid? didn’t know you had such fatherly instincts,” lambert shook his head. “but anyway, the chort…”

an hour or so later, the cat had abandoned geralt’s lap, likely off to beg for dinner scraps or hunt down a mouse. geralt was still telling himself that half of the reason he kept her around was for her impressive mousing abilities. mumbling something about needing a bottle of wine if he was going to listen to any more of lambert’s bitching, geralt left the other witcher alone in the main room. 

lambert was leaned back in his chair, his feet kicked up on another, when he heard the sound of tiny paws on the floor.

“you,” lambert glared at the kitten, who mewed innocently and walked right up to him. well, he had to admire the thing’s nerve. “hey, no, i am not your father, don’t-”

lambert froze and cut off when the white ball of fluff jumped onto his lap. he held his breath without realizing for a few moments as the cat sniffed at his legs and stomach, eventually curling right up on his crotch.

“wonderful,” he griped, before an idea came to him. listening to make sure geralt wasn’t coming back yet, lambert reached carefully for his silver knife. he had just delicately pressed the flat of it to the top of the cat’s head and had a moment to be impressed that the animal hadn’t started to melt or blister, when footsteps began returning from the cellar more quickly than he’d anticipated.

“lambert, what the fuck are you doing to my cat?”


	3. Chapter 3

“geralt!” ciri’s voice rang out, followed by running footsteps. geralt didn’t hesitate to open his arms, catching her as she jumped to hug him. geralt smiled as he wrapped his arms around ciri’s waist and spun her around, making her laugh. oh, geralt had missed her laugh. corvo bianco always felt like home, but it felt even better when ciri came to see him.

“i missed you so much,” ciri beamed as geralt set her back down. he couldn’t hide his smile, and it wasn’t like he usually tried to around ciri, anyway.

“missed you too, little witcher,” geralt ushered ciri inside as he spoke, giving her a once over as he did so. she seemed to be in good health, no visible injuries, and geralt felt an immense relief wash over him. sending ciri off on the path had been more nerve wracking for him than he was willing to admit, no matter how well he’d trained her. 

“oh, who’s this?” ciri stopped a few feet into the house, and geralt watched as his cat approached carefully. “how did you get in here, little one?” ciri squatted down as she spoke, holding her hand out for the small cat to sniff. after a few moments of careful deliberation, the white ball of fluff seemed to deem ciri acceptable and began rubbing against her hand.

“uh,” geralt paused, realizing he’d never bothered to name his new companion. “she’s… my cat?” geralt finished the sentence like it was a question, seeming unsure. ciri scooped the cat up, holding her to her chest and looking delighted when she began to purr.

“a cat that likes a witcher? you sure she’s just a cat?” ciri asked, petting the cat delicately and squinting. geralt felt a strange mix of pride and mild annoyance, because really, did no one think he would notice a weird cat shapeshifter in his own home?

“yeah, lambert already tried rubbing silver on her. she didn’t care, i almost skinned him,” geralt snorted a laugh, and ciri laughed as well.

“alright, alright. a witcher cat. what’s she called?” ciri set the cat back down on the floor, watching as she sniffed at ciri’s boots curiously.

“well,” geralt crossed his arms over his chest, feeling a little ashamed. sure, he’d named every horse he’d ever owned roach, but at least roach was a name. he hadn’t yet named the cat that slept in his bedroom and sat with him during meals.

“geralt!” ciri looked at him, a mix of amused and astounded. “how long have you had her, and you haven’t even named her yet?” ciri shook her head, laughing. “come on. show me to my room, we’ll come up with something once we’ve had dinner.

geralt smiled, nodding and leading ciri up to the guest room.

an hour later, ciri and geralt were sat across from each other at the table, finishing their meal. ciri had been telling geralt stories of her new adventures, showing him a new scar, and sneaking the cat table scraps. the little thing had always been more friendly to geralt than the regular humans at the vineyard, but ciri must have smelled just enough like witcher (or like geralt) for her to be lovable.

“on to more pressing matters,” ciri took a drink from her wine before leaning back, picking at the bread in front of her and looking down at the cat. “you need to name her, geralt. she’s so sweet, she deserves a name. and not roach junior,” ciri teased, looking up at geralt with a smirk.

“roach junior was almost your name, don’t scoff,” geralt teased back, sending ciri into a fit of laughter. the cat slunk back over to geralt, wrapping herself around his ankles and mewing loudly. with a sigh he leaned back, giving the small cat plenty of room to hop up onto his lap. she immediately curled up and began to purr, geralt’s hand resting on her back and covering most of her body.

“hmm,” ciri hummed thoughtfully. “she’s very cuddly. is she a good mouser? what else does she do? come on, geralt, we have to come up with something that suits her.”

“mostly she hunts down mice and drops them in my boots,” geralt rumbled. “it’s like she’s bringing me back a trophy. once it was an entire snake, and she didn’t even kill it all the way. marlene nearly screamed the house down, and i had to finish the job,” geralt shook his head, but he was smiling at the memory. “she wakes me up every morning. meows right in my face until i get up and get her some breakfast, the noisy beast.”

ciri was smiling at geralt and his cat, her expression one of fondness now. “what about… bruxa? alp? we could run down the bestiary and name her after any number of screaming beasts.”

the purring on geralt’s lap grew louder, and he looked down at the little cat with an affectionate expression, stroking between her ears gently.

“hm, you’re right. alp seems fitting. she’s a beauty, but her screams are deafening. and i’m sure the mice think she’s a bloodthirsty monster,” geralt shook his head, almost laughing again. “there you go, little one. you’ve got a name.”


End file.
